Old-World Soldier, Wasteland Survivor
by OllyWollyJaPollyWolly
Summary: When Nathan Laurie, a man from the Old-World, awoke to witness his wife's murder and his son's kidnapping, he vowed he would hunt the people responsible and make them pay. Join Nate as he traverses the Commonwealth, battling its horrors, forging new bonds... and changes the very fate of the Wasteland.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

 _ **December 4, 2288: 408 days after leaving Vault 111**_

Nathan Laurie was a soldier. A survivor. **_The_** survivor. Well over a year ago, Nate emerged from Vault 111 after being cryogenically frozen for a little over 210 years. His whole world was ripped asunder and he was thrust into a new one where it was a constant uphill struggle of survival. He had fought mutated abominations of man and beast. He had combated the elements, synthetic humanoids, men clad in old-world power armour and even hordes of literal psychotic killing machines.

And now he was pinned in a ruined home by a gang of raiders with pipe weapons.

Go figure.

Nate gritted his teeth as a round struck the edge of the ruined wall he was crouched behind, loose flecks of concrete skittering off of his olive drab combat armour. He looked to his companion, a dark skinned man clutching to a laser musket and similarly dressed with the exception of an iconic minuteman hat.

"Y'know, it's starting to get tedious fighting these fellas, Pres," he said, a wry grin on his face. Preston Garvey chuckled dryly, tipping back his hat as more of their cover was chipped away.

"You say that every time, General," the minuteman replied, cranking up his weapon. One. Two. Three. Four cranks. The weapons hummed, casting a dull glow to their surroundings. "And every time I tell you the same thing. The wasteland will never be without raiders."

"I know, I know. Won't stop me from having a good bitch about it though." Nate grunted as he hefted the anti-tank rifle in his hands, the servos in his exoskeleton somewhat lessening the load. He slapped in a fresh mag and the metallic fingers of his cybernetic pulled back the slide. "Cait and the others should have attacked by now. Where the hell are they?"

Preston shrugged and stole a quick peek over the top of their cover. Their battlefield was no different to the rest of the Commonwealth. Ruined buildings with boarded up windows lined the roads and rusted husks of once gleaming cars filled the cracked and broken streets. And currently using the cars as cover was a dozen or so men and women, each dressed in crude armour scavenged from whatever they could find and grasping makeshift weapons in their weathered hands.

Preston ducked back behind the wall as a fresh volley of gunfire rippled from the raiders, the bullets burying themselves into the mortar and brickwork of the old corner store they were hiding in. Nate wetted his dust caked lips and flicked down his goggles, cycling through the vision modes. The heartbeat sensor clicked to life and he pulled himself from the wall. He did an about turn and raised his rifle, resting his cheek against the stock as he aimed at the wall.

His vision was swapped with a dozen heartbeats, each one pulsating in rapid succession. He adjusted his aim as he settled on the closest one. His training kicked in as he focused his breathing.

 _Inhale through the nose, deeply, expanding my stomach for a count of four. One. Two. Three. Four. Hold the breath. Slowly exhale. Hold the empty breath._

He squeezed the trigger. The rifle boomed and the shockwave sent dust and debris skittering away. Nate's exoskeleton stabilized him enough to stop him from being sent sprawling onto his rear as the round tore through brick and mortar. Through the sizeable hole left by the round, he could see the raider being ripped off her feet and her body shattering from the bullet. Blood spewed around her, painting the wrecks and her companions alike in her fluid.

The sheer brutality of his kill brought about a lull in the gunfire as the raiders realized how far over their heads they were here.

 ** _PZCHOOM!_**

A raider suddenly glowed as he was struck in the chest by a beam of energy, his body simply evaporating into ashes. He was scattered to the winds before he even had a chance to strike the broken ground. Preston ducked back behind the wall and cranked his musket again.

"You'll pay for that, bleeder!" A raider clad in what looked to be parts of a shopping cart screamed. He put a hand on the bonnet of a car and was mid-leap before he was suddenly snatched from the air, a blossom of blood puffing from his body. At the far end of the street, Nate could see the distinct reflection of a sniper scope.

It seemed McCready was in position. And if he was shooting...

"Oi, ya' bunch of pansy arsed fuckers! Are ya' ready for the thrashin' of ah lifetime?!" A thick Irish accent cut through the air as a bloodthirsty redhead wielding a spiked baseball bat barrelled out of a nearby building and into the confused gaggle of raiders.

Cait swung her bat around and a raider's faced crunched underneath it. She laughed with a terrifying amount of glee as she kicked out with her leg, striking another in the groin. He doubled over before being promptly sent reeling as the bat connected with his face.

Nate breathed a sigh of relief as Cait's team stormed out of their cover. Piper was sliding over a crumpled car, crashing into the raider on the other side. She unloaded two bullets from her 10mm pistol into the downed woman, quickly turning around and waving a synth in a trenchcoat forward.

"Come on, Nicky! You don't want to miss out on all the fun, do you?" Nick advanced much more cautiously than the other two, sticking to cover where ever he could find it. He popped out from behind the car and squeezed the trigger with a thin, almost delicate metal finger. A raider wielding a machete crumpled to the ground.

"Y'know, Piper, that kind of bravado is going to get you into a whole mess of trouble one day," he scolded gently as he passed her. "Especially if you go charging in like that."

"Ah, Nicky, you worry too much in your old age!" She giggled with a light punch to the synth's shoulder.

Nate turned to look at his friend, gesturing with his head to the ensuring slaughter. With a firm nod, the pair of them leapt into the fray.

Time to clean up the Commonwealth.

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome everyone to my first ever fanfic! I, OllyWollyJaPollyWolly (a mouthful, I know,) hope that you will enjoy this story as it progresses along. There are many (and I mean many) Fallout fanfics out there, but I hope to be able to provide a unique story for you all.**

 **Please, leave a review and any feedback. Your comments will help me develop as a writer!**


	2. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_**

 ** _October 23, 2287: 1 minute after leaving Vault 111_**

* * *

The sky. The sky was the first thing Nate noticed when he stumbled off of the platform leading down to Vault 111. In the distance, he could see a tinge of green contrasting with the bright blue of the sky. The occasional flash told him that it was a storm of some kind. But what kind of storm turned the sky green?

It was only now that he started to notice the rest of his environment. The ground was near enough dead with only a few smatterings of green lingering here and there. The crates and structures around the platform were dulled and rusted, their paint peeling off as they slowly succumb to decay. The bleached bones of those who did not make it to the Vault littered the ground, varying in sizes. Men, women... and even a child.

He turned away from the scene. His breath caught in his throat as he spotted his old home. Through the gnarled corpses of once lush trees was Sanctuary, somehow still standing after the devastation brought about by the nuclear bomb. Well, at least most of it was still standing. Some of the houses were missing pieces of their walls. Some had their roofs caved in. And some had simply given up and embraced their fate, crumbling in on themselves and ending up little more than warped beams and rusted metal.

But Nate's home still stood. It had bared its teeth and fought back against the elements, refusing to succumb to its cruelty.

That was where he should start his search. There might be some clue as to Shaun's whereabouts down there. Perhaps his belongings still remained too. He turned away and set off down the beaten track, delicately stepping over the bones. He grimaced as he passed two corpses entwined with one another. A tattered dress adorned one whilst the other had the remains of a vest and trousers on. Were they people he knew? Neighbors who desperately begged and pleaded with the soldiers to let them in, to spare them from the inevitable death that awaited them if they remained on the surface?

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and continued onward, passing by the peeling billboard that loomed over him. He sneered at the message.

 _'Prepare for the future!"_

Some future this is. Could one even call it that?

Nate passed through the gate, ignoring the myriad of bones that gripped and grasped desperately to the rusting fence that surrounded their hopeful salvation. He crossed the rickety bridge that had somehow still remained after all these years. Actually, how many years has it been since he entered the vault? A question for another time.

He stepped up the trail and into the ruins of his suburb. His chest ached as he surveyed the scene, memories flooding back. Barbecues among friends. Children laughing and parents mingling during hot summer days.

Nora and he unlocking the door to their home for the first time as a married couple.

He balled his hands into fists as her murder replayed in his mind like a broken record.

 _Two figures, a man in a leather jacket with some kind of armour over his arm and a woman in a strange research outfit, walk into view. The woman points to Nora's pod, turning to address the man._

 _"This is the one. Here," she said, turning back to look at Nora and Shaun._

 _"Open it," the man grunted, his voice rough like gravel. The woman nodded once and pulled the switch. The pod whined as the hatch opened and swung upwards. Nora shuddered, her raven black hair spilled out over her shoulders. She panted heavily as she protectively held onto Shaun, the boy's breathes little more than tiny puffs of cloud in the cold._

 _"I-Is it over?" She coughed, looking upwards to the woman. She assumed she was Vault-tec staff. "A-are we okay?"_

 _"Almost," the bald man replied, raising a hand reassuringly at her. "Everything's going to be fine." The woman slowly reached out to Shaun, her hands starting to slide under the blanket the baby was wrapped in._

 _"Come here... come here, baby," the woman cooed. Shaun started to cry, his muffled tiny wails echoed through the room. Nora clung tighter onto their son. Nate started to slam his fist against the hatch of his pod._

 _"No, wait. No, I've got him!" Nora's protests went unheard as the two women fought against one another for the child. The man raised his arm, a 44. Magnum in his hand as he leveled it at Nora. Her eyes widened in fear and confusion._

 _"Let the boy go. I'm only going to tell you once!" He growled. Nora, staring down the face of death itself, redoubled her efforts as she fought against the mysterious figure for her son._

 _"I'm not giving you Shaun!" Her defiant cry was the last sentence to ever leave her lips. The gunshot rang out in the cramped confines of the room. Her arms went limp and Shaun was taken from her grasp. Nate screamed a primal cry of emotion and pain. His fist slammed repeatedly against the hatch._

 _"Goddammit! Get the kid out of here, and let's go..." the man snapped to the woman who was now cradling the bawling baby, trying to sooth the infant. She disappeared out of sight as the man walked over to Nate's pod, peering into it. Nate could clearly see his face now. It would be forever burned into his mind. A rounded face, old and weathered, perhaps in his early fifties. A neatly trimmed beard adorned his face. But the most notable feature was the long pink scar that cut over his left eye. "At least we still have the backup..."_

 _He walked out of sight and the synthesized voice of the Vault computer sounded above._

 _"Cryogenic sequence reinitialized." The last sight Nate saw before he fell back into his dreamless sleep was of his wife's lifeless body slumped into her pod._

He was ripped from his thoughts as the sound of a buzz saw cut through the air. He wheeled around towards the noise and his mouth dropped open. There, tending to the hedge in his front yard was a Mr. Handy unit with peeling paint and rusted stains on its rounded body. It was loudly humming the tune of 'Royal Britannia' as it shaped and cared for the hedge. A stalked eye turned to look at Nate as he approached, his mouth still slightly parted in shock and disbelief.

Nate liked to believe that if the robot had facial features, it would be perfectly matching his right about now.

"As I live and breathe!" Codsworth exclaimed, now turning all three eyes to face his master. "Oh, it's... it's **_REALLY_** you!" He sounded like he was on the verge of crying tears of joy. If he had tear ducts, that is.

"Codsworth! You're... still here," Nate said, his voice filled with joy and relief at seeing a piece of his old life still alive (or functioning to be exact) to this day. "So... other people could still be alive too..."

"Well of course I'm still here," the robot boasted, his arms bunching up as if he was placing hands on his hips. "Surely you don't think a little radiation could deter the pride of General Atomics International? Ha, poppycock!" He waved a pincer dismissively, as if the mere thought of radiation was outlandish. One of his eyestalks twisted around as if searching for something or someone before he spoke again. "But you seem worse for wear. Best not let the wife see you in that state. Where is the missus, by the way?"

Nate shuddered, taking a moment to collect himself before he replied. "She... she's in a better place now, Codsworth." The words left a sickly taste in his mouth.

"Sir... these terrible things you're saying. These... terrible things... I...I believe you need a distraction. Yes! A distraction, to calm this dire mood." Nate had to give it to Codsworth, he was certainly trying to remain upbeat... or maybe something important inside got fried during the explosion. "How about a game, sir? Chess or...or charades? Young Shaun did so ever love that game! Where is the young lad, anyway?"

Another knot in his stomach. His hands curled once again into fists. "They took him... those bastards took my son! And I... I'm going to make them pay," he growled, venom and malice oozing from his voice.

"It's worse than I thought."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're suffering from food deprived hallucinations. Being... two-hundred years late for dinner would do that to an organic being such as yourself, sir." Nate's eyes flew wide open.

"T-two hundred years?! That's impossible, it can't be!" Codsworth chuckled and waved a pincer idly in the air.

"Well, a little over two-hundred and ten if one wants to be exact. Give or take a few weeks for the rotation of the earth and such. I'll rustle something up for you, sir!" Nate stared blankly at the hovering ball of metal and screws. He slowly tilted his head to the side and sighed.

"Are you alright, Codsworth? You're acting strange..." The robot hovered for a second, stalks rotating awkwardly before focusing back on Nate.

"I-I-I..." Codsworth stammered before a distraught wail rattled from his speakers. "Oh, sir! It's been terrible, spending two hundred years alone with no one to talk to! I spent the first **ten** years trying to clean the car! What gets nuclear fallout of metal?! Nothing! Nothing I say!" Nate recoiled slightly, unaware at how lonely it must have been for him all these years. In fact, the last thing he remembered of Codsworth was leaving the robot on his own in the living room, pleading for him to stay safe. Nate couldn't imagine the anguish that would have caused to a living being.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, buddy," he said in the most soothing voice he could muster. "You're not alone anymore, alright?" Codsworth sniffed, even dragging his pincer across his plating.

"I-I know, sir. Thank you. I, ahem, I found this shortly after you and the family left for the Vault. I think mum was going to give it to you." A small storage compartment opened up at the back of his body and his pincer gently pulled out a holotape. He held it across to Nate who slowly, almost hesitantly, took it. He stared at the tape with grief filled eyes for what felt like years before looking back up to Codsworth.

"Thank you," he said simply, offering the robot a small smile.

"My pleasure, sir," he replied gently. "Now, enough feeling sorry for myself. We must begin the search at once for young Shaun!" Nate chuckled weakly and nodded. "I had taken the liberty of preserving sir's belongings in the safe in the wardrobe. You should find everything in there to a dashing standard!... Well, give or take. The washing machine stopped functioning awhile ago."

"Heh, you are... really something, Codsworth. Just... just give me a few minutes, okay? I need some time to... to adjust."

"Of course, sir! I'll guard the home-front in the meantime. I saw a few pesky flies that I have been meaning to exterminate... Cheerio, sir!" And with that, Codsworth turned and flew off into the suburb, humming the same tune as before. Nate walked inside the husk of his home, eyes taking in the rusted and decaying sight of his kitchen. He had read that morning's paper whilst he drank his coffee. Two hundred degrees Fahrenheit... brewed to perfection. Somehow, the Grognak comic has survived. It was sat there, on the island, if a little worse for wear.

Nate took slow and deliberate steps down the corridor. He glanced into the bathroom. The mirror was cracked and slanted and its contents expired. Toothpaste, a few cosmetics belonging to Nora and some bandages. The tap for the hot water was a little bit stiff that morning. Andy from down the road was going to come over and take a look at it...

He hoped Andy and his family died a painless death.

He continued down to the end of the hallway. He looked inside his and Nora's bedroom. The mattress for the bed was gone and the frame had buckled and gave way, the wood too rotted to support it anymore. The drawers were a little bit better, though not by much. It looked like they would too give way any day now. He didn't check the wardrobe yet. He had one last room to go in before he could do anything else.

Shaun's room was perhaps the best kept. His cradle had survived and a few of his toys littered the floor. His space themed rug was a little torn and stained. A few stitches and it would look as good as new. Nate couldn't remember walking over to the cradle and spinning the play mobile.

He couldn't remember inserting the holotape into his PipBoy that he had taken from the skeletal remains of a Vault-Tec doctor.

He couldn't remember his emotional barriers breaking down as Nora's angelic voice and Shaun's innocent coos played from the speaker, tears streaming down his face and his body racked with sobbing and grief.

* * *

 **A/N: So, here begins Nate's story in the Commonwealth! I'll be aiming to gradually increase the length of the chapters to more acceptable levels, bu right now I'm just trying to get myself really in the swing of writing!**

 **Please, leave a review and any feedback! Remember, you help me progress as a writer!**


	3. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

 ** _October 23, 2287: 35 minutes after leaving Vault 111_**

* * *

Nate stood outside of his home with his face turned upward toward the sky. The warm comforting rays of the sun beamed down onto his weathered features. It was a nice feeling.

After recuperating from the shock and grief that overwhelmed him, he went to retrieve his belongings from the safe. And Codsworth, ever true to his word, had kept them in near perfect condition.

It had only took him a few minutes to put on the set of clothing that Codsworth preserved – A (somewhat) white t-shirt, a faded brow leather jacket, fingerless gloves, ragged blue jeans and a pair of old combat boots – and he had started to examine the gun and ammunition that was left within the safe.

The pistol was a 44. Magnum with a matte black finish. A bull barrel replaced its snub nose originality and the grip was custom made to fit within Nate's grasp firmly. He had lovingly called it Ash. Nora had teased him relentlessly for naming his gun, but he was glad he did. It brought familiarity and... comfort to him.

He checked the spare ammunition. 30 bullets spread across five speed loaders that were now attached to his belt. Ash was in its holster on his right hip. He had left the vault-suit folded up in the safe. He didn't want to remain in that thing any longer. It was just a constant reminder of the Vault and he had to focus. Shaun... he needed to find Shaun.

He lowered his gaze and looked to Codsworth who had just finished packing a rucksack with a myriad of food and purified water that he had been collection over his many years of isolation. The robot raised the rucksack towards Nate, stalked eyes turned towards his master.

"Here you go, sir! One rucksack, chock full of enough food, water and medical supplies to last you the week," he announced proudly. "I still find it fortunate that I do not require such modes of fuel to survive. Heaven's know that there isn't enough in there to share between the two of us."

"Thank you, Codsworth," Nate said, slinging it across his back. He tightened the straps a wee bit. "Are you sure there are survivors in Concord? I'd rather not go blindly stumbling into a ruin for a few dusty bones."

"I'm positive, Mr Laurie, that there are people. As I mentioned, they weren't the friendliest chaps I've met. Rather brutish dare I say. But I'm sure they will react pleasantly to you, sir! Being a human and all." Nate chuckled, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

"Alright. It's not like it's a far walk or anything." Nate turned around, inhaling a deep breath of air. "Hold down the home-front while I'm gone. Just in case those people return..."

"Very well, sir! Good luck, Master Laurie." Codsworth waved his pincer as Nate slowly marched through the graveyard of decrepit houses. The road was warped and cracked, years and years of neglect leading to nature viciously reclaiming the land. He could see signs of previous tenants whom took shelter within the suburb as the fading remains of a campfire linger next to a house near the bridge. As he crossed the bridge, he could see that a car had tried to hurriedly leave before the bomb dropped. Judging by the collapsed section and the rusted husk in the water, they were not successful in this endeavour.

Nate quickly came across his second sign of people living in this wasteland on the other side of the water. Regretfully, he was dead. His throat was ripped out, exposing his jugular and wind pipe. The culprit was a bloodied and furless hound with peeling skin. A tire iron was plunged into its midsection. Nate shuddered and walked by.

This was not going to be a pleasant time.

* * *

"I just wanted to talk, you fuckers!" Nate ducked behind the rusted car as the metal pinged and clanged to the bullets coming from the two people around the corner. Dressed in ragged clothing and clad in crude armour (which seemed to be scavenged from... anything, really), the two dirty wastelanders immediately attacked as Nate and his new companion, a kindly and rather fluffy German Sheppard, approached them with a hand raised in greeting. And after two calls of peace which went ignored, Nate had finally had enough.

He drew Ash from its holster and gripped it tightly, pulling back the hammer. He waited for a lull in the gunfire before popping up and sighting his first target, a woman with a spiked Mohawk who had stupidly elected to stand in the open while reloading. Ash bucked as it fired, the round passing through the woman's throat. She dropped to the ground, blood frothing in her mouth. Her companion wisely took cover, firing off his homemade gun wildly.

Nate ducked to the side as a bullet whizzed by his ear. As he stood to take another shot, he could see the dog dragging the man out from cover as he flailed wildly. The wastelander aimed his weapon at the dog. He was dead before he could pull the trigger. Nate lowered Ash and panted as the adrenaline coursed through him.

"I just... wanted to talk..." He holstered Ash and doubled over, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He placed them on his knees and gulped down deep breaths. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted to ask questions about this world. No, not world. This nightmare. How could people just attack others on sight? Surely cooperation should be key, the normality?

A wet tongue lapping hesitantly at his hand brought him back to reality. He glanced up to see the Sheppard looking at him curiously. Wait. Was that concern in those big brown eyes of his? A glint of intelligence? Nate exhaled slowly and gently ruffled the animal's head, a small smile on his face.

"Good boy." Dog woofed happily and wagged his tail. The distinct sound of gunshots shattered the small moment, turning both of their heads towards the sound.

"That's coming from Concord's center," he said to the dog. "C'mon! If those shots belong to these guys' friends then we've got to help whoever they're attacking." Dog barked an affirmative and the two took off at a jog into the remains of Concord.

* * *

 **A/N: So, this chapter was shorter than the last and it came out later than the last one too. Unfortunately, I am prepping for a move across the country, so time isn't exactly plentiful at the moment. So, this also means that there won't be any updates for a short while as I shall be without internet.**

 **However, during my absence, I should have time aplenty to create lengthier chapters of higher quality! So, please, bear with me.**

 **See you all when I return!**


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